Please Go To AO3. You Should Consider Making One Now Not Just Because Of Tumblr.

Please go to AO3. You should consider making one now not just because of Tumblr. 🙏🏻🙏🏻

i tried once but it never caught on for me?? like it took so long to make the acc bc of the code thing and then i didn't get it so gave up after like two days lol

but that was years ago so i might have to try it again just to have more fic content

thinking about bestfriend!coryo who you trust more than anyone else, so when he starts getting touchier, you think nothing of it. a lot of friends are like that and he starts small. holding your hand, thumb brushing soothing circles over your knuckles. keeping an assuring hand on the small of your back as you walk through crowded halls or during formal events. you somehow miss the way that he always shows up just as some guy is getting too close to you, never noticing the glare directed at the intruders as his fingers find yours.

then he's coming over to study and the two of you lose track of time. so you can't send him home, not with how harsh winter nights in the capitol can be.

so you invite him to stay over. you're willing to wake up the maid to set up a guest room, but it's so late and she's been asleep for hours. and your father's out of town as usual, away on business in the districts, and your mother just recently left to join him. so there's no one there to hold the two of you to social propriety.

so why not let him stay in your room? just this once. it's not like he's some random boy, he's your coryo. it's also cold, your room being on the far end of your family's estate where the central heating can't ever manage to work consistently, so it's practical. you can't find anything wrong in the way his side presses into yours beneath plush sheets.

before you know it, he's finding excuses to come over and staying so late that it's just easier for him to stay over at least once a week.

and the longer this goes on, the easier it is to not read into more and more. a hand just above your knee while you're both sitting in the library, his foot absentmindedly pushing against yours while you're both reading, the rare brush of his lips against the back of your palm or your shoulder when you're are alone. how can any of that be weird or too much when the two of you are used to falling asleep while holding onto each other?

you get so used to it that it's instinct to welcome anything involving him. if coryo's placing an arm around your shoulder, you relax into his side. if his fingers are trailing patterns against your arm, you don't move. if he's pulling you closer while half asleep, you smooth circles against his back until his breathing evens. he's your best friend, it's the least you can do and it's not like the displays of affection bother you.

it becomes so habitual to just go along with it because it's coryo, who'd never do anything to hurt you or make you uncomfortable, that you don't even react when he finds you at some capitol party hosted by your parents, stone faced as he grabs your arm. you're bubbly, ready to introduce him to the son of one of your father's co-workers that he can barley bring himself to look at.

he mumbles the faintest greeting before pulling you away. that's what you react to, being dragged harshly through a room full of people. coryo's so in his head that all he gets from your reaction is that you're pushing him away for the first time ever after spending most of the night talking to some guy that's everything he's insecure about.

he doesn't let go of you until you're in a hall closet. before you can ask what's gotten into him, he's closing the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours to prove that he can. that you'll let him.

you've spent so long letting coryo set the pace for everything that you kiss him back before you can think. eventually your mind catches up and you're pulling back enough to look him in the eye. all it takes is the slightest nod of his head and you're leaning back in because he's your coryo and he's always known where to go with things.

----

----

more bestfriend! coryo 

omg are you making a part 2 for both of your coryo one shots cuz i’ve fallen in love with both stories they’re so GOOD😭

omg i was originally only going to write a part 2 for the first one (the one that i gave a title to called "of angels") bc i had an idea for it right away and was considering making it a mini-series

but!! people have been asking about the second coryo one-shot and talking about wanting to see the arena thing, so i think i will bc if i have the ideas why not lol

hot evil characters who i want to fix but will make me cry if i actually meet them in real life>>>>>>

been obsessed with coryo after watching tbosas 😭 please write more of bestfriend!coryo <3

so so adorable 💋 i love u tehe

me gasping like in that tiktok sound: oh my goodness i love this question!!!

in all seriousness i have so many more thoughts on this dynamic omg

----

thinking about bestfriend!coryo who knows your parents love him, and, more importantly, he knows how to use that to his advantage.

it's no accident, he's put in meticulous effort in making sure that they not only approve of the friendship, but that he's their favorite friend of yours. when it comes to a family as prominent and wealthy as yours, parental approval goes a long way, especially with how regularly your parents leave town for business.

your father's admiration isn't an easy thing to win, but coriolanus is no stranger to uphill battles, and you're worth it. with the way that you look at him, how could you not be?

so he puts in the work: being the perfect student in classes taught by known friends of your father, wearing his best clothing and practicing old capitol etiquette his grandma'am was more than happy to review with him before family dinners that you invited him to, and making sure to keep proper distance between the two of you whenever your parents are around, no matter how difficult it is for him to remember to not hold your hand.

the hardest part is the fact that most of your father's intimidation comes from the fact that he's the exact kind of man coryo wants to be. powerful, respected, and in a position to never worry about finances or status. but he keeps at it, taking more care than usual to make sure that the signs of poverty are never visible in front of your parents.

even if that means purposefully leaving leftovers of the best food he's eaten in years on his plate so that no one will think he's starving. even if you give him a look that only he can feel the strangeness of because even though you've never spoken of his financial status, you can tell that he's not as well off as everyone thinks. that's the only thing about you that digs beneath his skin--you can always tell.

he's unsure if his efforts are working because of your father's constantly stoic disposition even though you assure him that that's your father when he's relaxed.

but then one day, he's over on your father's last night at home before returning to the districts to oversee some business, and your father asks to speak with him in private. you're instantly snapping your head up from your textbook, wanting to make sure that your father won't say anything embarrassing or rude.

he's scared off other friends in the past and even though it hurts, you never fight back too much because your father isn't an easy man to talk back to. but this is where you draw the line. you're not going to lose your coryo.

coryo feels something in his stomach knot, especially at that bewildered look behind your eye, but he's not about to be openly intimidated, so he assures you that he's fine. when you push, asking what topic could possibly involve just coryo and him and be that private, your father says that it's just business from man to man.

coryo has to force down a smile because he knows he'll be hearing no end of it from you as soon as the two of you are alone together. then he starts to think that this might be it. maybe your father has found out about his true financial status or dean highbottom has finally gotten to him and he's about to be banned from seeing you.

he forces down his anxiety and follows your father into the hall. your father's quick to the point, letting him know that he's leaving for another long stretch of time and that your mother's social and professional engagements mean that you'll be alone often. he closes the statement by asking coriolanus to look after you until he returns.

the realization that coriolanus has made it hits him at the same time as the relief and for a second all he can do is stare. then his senses return to him and he's swearing to your father that he'll take such good care of you, your father will have nothing to worry about. then your father's clasping his shoulder and offering him a gruff but oddly genuine thank you, son before telling him to get back to your room before you get paranoid.

it's an odd way to end the moment, but coryo's so busy trying to convince himself to not mentally plan out your wedding (because let's be honest, that's a level of trust from someone like your father might as well be a pre-engagement) that he doesn't think of it.

when he gets back to your room, you ask as casually as you can manage what your father wanted. after telling you that your father just wants to make sure that you're looked after while he's away, coryo expects you to be happy. but instead of reacting positively, you just sort of nod and mumble something polite before attempting to go back to studying.

something in his chest hardens. he's your best friend, who you spend as much time as socially acceptable with, and you two are being given the perfect excuse to be around each other more and you're not happy.

he immediately pushes and you reluctantly tell him that this has to mean that he's in with your father. another thing that coryo thinks you should be thrilled about. the more your father approves, the closer the two of you can be. he's accusing you of being sick of him, of trying to get rid of him, of no longer wanting to be best friends with him.

that has you scrambling to defend yourself. there's little you consider more important than your friendship with him. it's the only bond you fully trust.

so you tell him that your real concern is that your father never gets along with your friends that way, and that the only similar reference point you have is the way he talks to people like him.

you then tell him that the people in your father's social circle aren't like coryo. at the very least, not your coryo, who's never harsh with you and would rather spend parties sitting with you than sharing cruel opinions to impress other men.

all coriolanus hears is that you don't see him the way you see the actually important men. the hurt behind his eyes has you moving to stand and reaching for him. he lets you take his hand but doesn't react, so you explain it as transparently as possible. people that your father likes are mean, and you don't want to lose him to that.

there's something about the way you say it, all round eyes and genuine worry. it reminds him too much of tigris, of the newfound hint of tension in their relationship that's become more prevalent. she's constantly reminding him of what his father's success turned him into.

coryo's pulling you into a hug, whispering promises that you could never lose him. you're hugging him back tightly, hand smoothing circles against his back.

he realizes he means what he's saying. he can achieve the prominence he wants without alienating you. there's a way to be stern with the world and just coryo to you. and even if his edges become a little sharper, he'll keep that away from you and you'll understand.

you may criticize some of your father's views and actions, but you do love him. coryo sees it in the way that you constantly strive for his approval, he sees it in the way your face lights up when he's home. if you can love your father through your disagreements, you can love him as well. he'll make sure of it.

feeling better, he starts semi-playfully chiding you for even thinking that anything could take you away from him. that you should know better than to not see this as yet another thing he's doing for you, for your friendship.

you don't want to admit it, but you're feeling a little bad for reacting like that. after all, coryo was so excited to tell you and you know your father's capable of scaring people out of your life. at least this means that nothing's going to get in between the two of you.

coryo recognizes your slight pout and the apologetic line between your eyebrows. the two of you so rarely argue that even a hint of conflict has you willing to do anything to make things feel normal again.

so he lets himself play into his hurt. you're quick to pick up on it, holding onto him a little tighter. the two of you stay like that for awhile until you break the silence, saying that you're happy that he has an excuse to be around more.

eventually the two of you end up sitting on your bed, both of you silently agreeing that you've done enough homework. instead you focus on reassuring him, holding his hand between both of yours, pressing the occasional chaste kiss against his knuckles and resting your head against his shoulder until he has to go home.

after your father leaves, coryo takes his promise to look after you seriously. he's already in the habit of walking you home after school every day, but he start staying over after every day. the lack of authority figures around makes it a little easier to accept the after school snacks your maid always prepares and sometimes he even lets you send some home with him.

his grandma'am's over the moon when he starts accepting invitations to school social events that he honestly considers painful because he's escorting you. she's convinced that the two of you are getting married and with your family's status and the snow name, there's no door the two of you won't be able to unlock. even though you're still just friends, he rarely reminds her. it's for her own sake, he tells himself, it makes her happy.

the promise to your father also makes him bolder. he feels more assured, more justified in his disapproval of those that show a little too much interest in you.

you still don't notice the way his jaw tightens when some unaware guy gets too close, or think anything of the way that it almost always leads to him grabbing your hand.

he also stays over more, sometimes leaving for a few hours in the late afternoons so your maid doesn't think anything's going on. your family's estate is so large it's easy enough to get him in and out through a secondary exit.

the two of you fall into such a good routine that when your parents do get back, they start trusting coryo even more. your father asks if he can take you to certain social events that normally you wouldn't be allowed to attend and your strict weekday curfew becomes more of a suggestion when he's around.

Unlikely

A/n this is one of the fics i wrote that i then let sit in my drafts 😭,, also originally set this up to have a part 2 bc who can commit to a full one shot, that's part of the reason i left it in the drafts but with finals i thought i'd just post

Pairing: (first avengers) Loki x reader

Summary: Your enhanced abilities (that you can't quite control) make you the ideal candidate to keep an eye on Loki as he adjusts to staying at Avengers Tower. Unfortunately for you, he manages to see right through you almost immediately. It's also oddly life ruining that he's not exactly what you expected him to be.

----

You're not the first person that's ever considered killing Tony Stark in order to make their own lives easier, but you're probably the first person to consider it and have access to his usual morning coffee.

Not that you'd poison him. No, for this he deserves something slow and painful. Maybe you'd hit up Nat first to get some ideas.

"I'm not asking you to do this indefinitely." His sentence snaps you out of your fantasies of learning strange and untraceable Russian torture methods. You have to stop yourself from scoffing at the way Tony says asking. "Just...until things--"

"Settle?" You cross your arms in front of your chest, hating the way that this entire thing is starting to make you feel like a teenager arguing with a parent over chores or an unfair curfew. "He's a sociopath that you're letting live in the tower. The only settling is placing him literally anywhere else."

You're not one for black and white thinking. You understand that when it comes to anything involving the Avengers, there's room for morally grey and accidental loss. But that wasn't the Battle of New York.

Maybe if there was a way to wait, to keep Loki away until those that were most effected get a chance to lick their wounds and regroup. But letting him in so close to the aftermath Is insensitive and a major security risk.

"I--I won't help you do this." Your voice is decisive, your chin shifting forward less than inch as if to prove that your choice is set. "It's not fair to the people of New York, it--it's not fair to Barton."

"I'm not making you do anything." You raise an eyebrow at that. "I'm just asking you to keep an eye on Reindeer Games because of your--" Tony lifts a hand, exposing his palm and bending his fingers in an almost teasing imitation of the gestures you use to control your abilities, "Reindeer taming situation."

It's not meant to be mean. The powers you still haven't fully grasped have managed to restrain people like Loki before. Briefly, just long enough to call for backup or buy yourself a second to plan what to do next. You don't have the control you need to make it a fair fight, but it's something.

The reminder of what you can and can't do forces heat to crawl up your neck. You drop your arms, keeping your hands pressed firmly to your side.

"Having him here isn't my idea, Glow Stick." The familiar nickname makes your nose wrinkle. You're not fond of it, but it's easy going enough to distract you from your annoyance. "It's a favor for Thor."

The explanation eases you more than it should. Thor's surprisingly easy to get along with, and if Thor can see some redeeming quality in Loki, then there's at least some chance that he's not a completely lost cause. "Think of it like that--you like Thor, right?"

You sigh. Thor teaches you cool fighting moves and shares breakfast pastries with you and you're finally getting him to understand friendly gossip. You like Thor. He's a friend. "Not right now."

"I'll make sure to break his heart with that one the next time you two are giggling over breakfast."

You roll your eyes, fighting to hold down a smile. The laughter Tony's referencing had likely been at his expense.

----

You're not sure what the protocol is for when you're supposed to show a norse god around the superhero tower you call home, so you fall back on regular company rules. Not that you'd admit that to anyone that'd think to ask.

This is ridiculous. You're ridiculous. A few days ago he was trying to kill all of your relatively newly appointed team mates and friends and now you're making sure to straighten your comforter and hiding a basket of completed laundry that you made the mistake of not putting away immediately on the off chance that you'll have to awkwardly let him glance at your bedroom.

You're not sure how the first night's supposed to work. You don't know when he's getting here or how much surveillance is expected from you on Loki's first night. It would've been smart to get some details from Tony, but you had spent the bulk of your day avoiding him and keeping to your room.

At least you did think to put a hold on your kind of childish but mainly warranted sulking to have a short conversation with Thor about his brother. The main thing you gathered was that even though their bond is strange, you're certain it's more solid than either of them is aware of and that Loki read a lot as a child. It's not a lot to work with in terms of small talk meant to mask the fact that you're meant to be watching him, but at least it's something.

Besides, if the book shelf in your room is anything to go by, you can work with likes reading.

A soft knock snaps you out of your overthinking. "Come in."

Tony pushes open the door. A small part of you is surprised that he's the one at the door. It's not his presence that's strange, maybe he wants to give you some kind of run down before Loki gets here. The way he knocked, however, is weird. It was way too patient and professional.

You look at him oddly before your attention manages to shift to the person standing behind him. Loki.

Yeah, killing off Tony is back on the table.

It's one thing to have to play tour guide with the guy that just attacked New York and most of the people you care about...it's another to have Tony bring him to your room without any kind of warning.

"Y/n, Loki," Tony summarizes flatly, "Loki, Y/n." He sort of nods, a brief dip of his chin that seems to say that he's done all he's supposed to. "She'll show you around."

Even though this is being presented as factual, the whole thing feels painfully transparent. You're not sure what about it feels like a give away, but something about this feels way too artificial. Tony offers you a final look before turning to leave.

You adjust your posture. His silence and the way he carries himself makes it feel like you're intruding on his space instead of the other way around. It also doesn't help that he's objectively nice to look at. Which makes sense because he is a god, but it still feels unfortunate for you. It adds to the subtle intimidation of all of this.

"Hi," you finally say, voice even and as normal as you can manage. No one can say you handled this wrong if you just stick to the bare-bones of casual politeness. "I'm Y/n, like Tony said, and--"

His piercing eyes finally focus on you, overwhelming enough to pin you in time. The look only lasts a second, his eyes flitting downwards before focusing on something else in your room.

He passes the threshold of the doorway, entering your room, your space, with even, confident steps. You know that Thor and Loki are both royals, but Loki carries that authority differently than his brother. There's a sharpness to the way he wields it.

Loki passes you like your presence means very little in the grand scheme of things. Which, to him, it definitely does. He doesn't stop until he's close enough to your bookshelf to scan the titles comfortably.

"Now I know why I didn't see you on the battle field."

"Oh, I like reading, but I wasn't--" It takes a second longer than you'd like to admit to realize that the comment is somewhat a joke. A jab that's at least somewhat at your expense.

The real reason Loki didn't see you is because your abilities were proving unstable. Your focus was on protecting civilians and evacuating largely populated areas until the threat was cleared. It was similar to things that you had done in the past, similar enough that you knew you'd have total control.

"There was a lot going on," you mumble, "As one would expect when someone attempts to take over one of biggest cities in the world with an alien army."

Oh my god. You regret the sentence immediately. His actions definitely entitle you to some level of snark, but you're definitely not trying to start or trigger anything.

He turns his head enough to face you. His expression shifts, a slight raise of an eyebrows and an even slighter turn of his lips. You can't read enough to decide if that's a good or bad sign.

You hold his gaze for as long as you can. It feels like longer, but in reality, it's probably only two seconds. "That was--rude." It's as close to an apology as you can bring yourself to get.

Loki's attention shifts back to your bookshelf. With no warning, he extends a hand, carefully plucking one of your most well worn books from its usual place. He studies the cover, eyebrows pulling together as if the action requires that much deliberation.

His focus is another thing you can't figure out. You wonder if his cryptic behavior is natural to him or some form of dramaticism meant to make him even more intimidating.

"You can borrow that if you want." The comment leaves you before you realize that you've made the decision to speak. You blame it on the nerves caused by the extended silence. The urge to defend the comment is just as unavoidable, "Thor mentioned that he remembers you reading a lot."

He stiffens, the shift subtle yet sharp. Loki sets the book down quickly, like touching it in the first place had been some grave mistake. "That was a long time ago."

The way he says that almost does pull an actual apology from you.

----

Maybe if Tony had told you exactly what he meant by showing Loki around, you'd know where to go.

He's staying here, which means he should know the basics. The kitchen that bleeds into the living room, the training room, and the locker room. You don't think he'll be over utilizing any of these shared spaces more than necessary, but there's not much else to go over. He had told you that Tony already showed him his room...one coincidently on the same floor as yours.

You don't know what else there is to show him. The labs seem like a bad idea, but pretending that the Avengers don't exist at all feels awkward and naive. The lower clearance lab might be alright, there's nothing there except for things in the most preliminary stages of development. You're not even allowed to bring certain cauterizing lasers down there.

After some internal debate, you rule it out in favor of an office like space meant for strategizing. It's kind of lame and feels like a sort of 'baby proofed' version of actually showing him around, but it looks official enough that you think you can get away with it.

He follows you without question down the hall, the way he has this entire time. Loki doesn't even ask when you both wander away from what's clearly the residential area.

"Why are you showing me this?" The question almost makes you jump. He's spent the entire tour as silent as possible, only ever occasionally nodding in acknowledgement.

It's a fair question. This is a pretty random stop. "Uh--the office? I don't know, it's part--"

"No," he says, "Why are you showing me around?" Still not fully getting the question, you just blink. "Tony Stark is, unfortunately, not an idiot. He didn't pick one of the others, he picked you." Loki takes a partial step forward, a clear attempt to remind you of his height. "Why?"

Yeah, there's no way you're telling him the real reason it's you. My powers knocked out Wanda once for a few seconds and I messed with Thor's abilities for an even shorter amount of time...so Tony thinks it could work the same way for you if I really needed it to.

A small part of you is offended by the assumption that you couldn't possibly do anything to him. Though, you guess that's also part of the reason Tony wanted it to be you. "That's an overly presumptuous question." A flat, obvious response. "How do you know I'm not scarier than I look?"

He takes another step forward. He's just close enough to be too close. The realization makes an odd warmth crawl up your neck and the too familiar hiss of energy burn down your veins and into your palm. This is the oddest version of fight or flight that you've ever felt.

"Are you?" He punctuates the question with another small step forward.

You're not sure if you're capable of enough thought to answer. "Only when provoked."

Loki tilts his head slightly, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. The look twists your stomach. It makes you feel like he's won something. "What?"

His uncertain smile settles into a knowing smirk. "You can't control it."

It's as if all of the blood in your body freezes over. You didn't say anything. No one's said anything. There's no way he knows about what you can do, let alone the weaknesses that come from what you can't.

"What?" This time the question comes out as a scoff. You have to sound confused. You have to believe that you're confused.

The only indication that Loki heard you is the slight draw of his eyebrows that feels distinctly disappointed, like the mundaneness of your reaction's killing the fun for him. "I can help with that."

Even if you were comfortable announcing your powers to strangers, you would know better than to give any indication that you'd be willing to do that. But something about outright denial or brushing him off under the guise of pretend confusion doesn't feel like it'll settle this.

"I'm fine," you whisper, more to yourself than him, "I have it under control." Admitting that much is enough to make your skin crawl. "I was supposed to meet Natasha." A cheap, yet true enough excuse. You were planning on seeing her eventually, she's been working on teaching you different fighting moves. "I'll--I'll see you, I guess."

With that you walk past him without making eye contact. There's a lot you could think about, but the only thing your mind wants to focus on is why Loki being vaguely aware of your abilities makes you feel like you're precariously walking around shards of glass.